


Daisies

by marvel_and_mischief



Series: Floriography Series [3]
Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Allusions to prostitution, F/M, Gambling, Swearing, lighthearted punishment in the stocks, rough handling by guards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29512506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief
Summary: Daisies:attachment, new beginnings
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You
Series: Floriography Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153310
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Daisies

“Now remember, ten or above wins you double your stake, below ten and your stake is mine.”

The scruffy drunkard sat opposite you let out a bellowing laugh, the nasty stench of his rotten teeth hitting your nostrils. His movements sloshed the tankard of mead in his hand, spilling some of its contents on the table between you. You had to hold back your look of disgust and smile through the uncomfortableness.

“I won’t lose. Throw ‘em, lady,” he slurred. You had to fight off the smirk threatening to show on your face as you shook the two, six sided dice in your right hand. You had nothing to worry about, the dice were weighted, favoring the lower numbers and therefore guaranteeing your win every time. 

“Alright, but when you win you owe me a drink!” You winked cheekily at your mark, catching his eye whilst you threw the dice on the table. The more you distracted them to less chance there was of getting caught in your scam.

The dice came to a stop and you both looked down at the same time; a three and a four, earning a groan of disappointment from the few onlookers that had gathered to watch.

“Better luck next time,” you grinned, gathering up your dice and winnings as the man muttered something unintelligible and grumpily left the table, “anyone else want a go?”

“I will.”

You froze at the voice in your ear and saw the figure of a familiar man take the recently vacant seat opposite you. Pero Tovar always seemed to show up in your life when you least wanted him to. He was an annoying ghost and you could never shake off his haunting. You should gather up your earnings and leave but something kept you rooted to the table. And the longer you took to contemplate your next move, the more the drunkards in the tavern wanted to know what was going on. Soon you’d attracted quite the crowd.

“I said, I want a go.”

You looked into his brown eyes, the ones that sparkled with humor, always at your expense. 

“It may be too difficult for your small brain to understand how to play,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Then let us play a different one. I will throw the dice, and if the total is _lower_ than ten, I win every penny you have taken tonight.”

The bastard. The only reason he would suggest playing it that way was if he knew how you were cheating the game. You clenched your jaw in frustration. 

“I think I am ready to take my leave-“

“But we have an audience!” Pero smirked, raising his voice and waving a hand at the tavern full of people who hurrahed, eager for you to throw the dice. You were cornered, physically by the wall of people around you and mentally by Pero who knew if you refused the game it would look suspicious. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, faking an over the top smile, twirling the dice in one hand and clenching your other hand into a fist under the table. Stay calm, don’t show him how much he was getting to you. You’d chase him down afterwards and with a knife to his throat take your money back. That would show him.

You dropped the dice on the table and leaned back in your seat to see Pero staring at you. You didn’t need to see the dice to know you had lost, the weights that usually worked for you were against you this time, and the tavern goers yelled in surprise and delight, some were even joyfully patting Pero on the shoulder in congratulations. All the while Pero was smiling at you, self satisfied at playing you at your own game. 

You pulled the drawstring bag off your hip and threw it across the table, hitting Pero in the chest. 

“Better luck next time,” Pero mocked your earlier words, “would you like a drink to drown your sorrows in?” Pero threw the bag of coins in the air and caught it successfully. 

“Oh bugger off Pero,” you hissed, leaving the tavern in a huff. You didn’t want to see him again this night. You’d get him back next time.

-

He was young, still a teenager but old enough to know better. His clothes were of the finest materials, gold threads held the pieces together and added beautiful patterns to the front and shoulders of the jacket. He even had a long, shiny feather in his cap. He stuck out in the crown like a sore thumb.

You had been scouting the market for marks all morning and he was the only person you thought worthy of relieving of coin. He had a guard with him who was more interested in looking at the women walking by and the coin purse was dangling enticingly down by his hip. It would have been much easier for a child to run along and snip the string with a knife but the only ones you’d found were hand in hand with their parents. So you were on your own.

You were hidden down the side of a building, in the shadows and away from prying eyes. Or so you thought until you caught the flash of a grin out the corner of your eye.

Pero Tovar was mirroring your position on the other side of the marketplace, the wealthy man in the middle of your both. Pero moved his gaze to said man and it was then you knew he was after your mark. 

It had been only a couple of nights since he took all your money at the tavern and you’d be damned if you were going to let him swindle you of even more coin. You had to get to the mark before Pero did, by any means necessary. 

You tried to plead with him, subtly shaking your head but all Pero did was lean against the wall and offer you a warning glare. 

The mark was buying a trinket from a stool, handing his purchase over to the guard to carry and looking around for where to go next. This was your only chance. 

You untied the string at the top of your tunic, letting it open up to display your chest more than you would usually allow. But you needed a distraction and a way of getting close to the man without suspicion. You pulled out the small scissors from your boot and held them comfortably in your dominant hand, shaking down your sleeve to keep them out of sight.

You tried to ignore Pero but as soon as you slipped out of the alley he did the same, heading directly for the wealthy man. 

Unfortunately whilst you were gaining speed through jogging movements, Pero’s purposeful strides were larger than yours, meaning you both reached the man at the same time. 

“Sir, could I offer my services-“

“You seem too respectable to want the services of a harlot-“

“Harlot? Excuse me, I am so sorry, this ruffian-“

“Ruffian! You should show some respect-“

Your attempts to get close enough to grab the purse were scuppered by Pero subtly pulling you away with a hand around your waist. And as much as you tried to pry him off you, he was strong and stubborn, rendering your scam completely useless. The wealthy man’s guard dragged him away with a growl in your direction to stop you from pursuing them.

“What was that!?” Those words had been on the tip of your tongue but Pero spoke them first. You looked at him with a confused frown.

“What?”

“What were you thinking? That guard could have killed you.”

“Oh do not pretend you care for my health, you wanted that purse to yourself.”

“I did, but when I saw you were going to get yourself in serious trouble I had to come and save you instead of getting the coins for myself. You are welcome, _idiota_.”

You stared at Pero in disbelief. Was he expecting gratefulness? You couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

“I have been doing this for years and I haven’t gotten caught once. I would appreciate it if you _didn’t_ save me again,” you huffed, tying up the strings of your shirt before stomping away from him. 

If you never saw Pero Tovar again it would be too soon.

-

You were mad. But you were mad that Pero was _right_ more than you were mad at your actual predicament. 

You had been playing a simple card trick on an unsuspecting traveller, one that you’d played hundreds of times, it had never gone wrong. Somehow the extra card up your sleeve (the one you used to cheat with) had slipped out and fallen to the floor and a guard that had been watching had spotted it and arrested you before you could run.

So that was how you found yourself in the stocks all morning, set in the middle of the courtyard of the castle grounds for everyone to laugh at. A few delighted children had thrown various rotten vegetables in your face, most adults had taken pity on you and walked on by. Your back was hurting from being hunched over, your feet were aching on the hard, stone ground. But none of that compared to the pain of seeing your foe being dragged towards you. 

“Please, I beg you, this is punishment enough, do not put that man anywhere near me.”

“Anyone would think you hated me,” Pero grumbled, humor in his voice despite being guided towards his punishment.

You felt the top half of the stocks lifting off the back of your neck, a second of relief, as the guards situated Pero next to you. His hand was so close to yours you could touch him, not that you wanted to. The stocks were dropped down and locked in place and the guards left you alone.

“You bring me nothing but bad luck,” you mumbled, huffing as you shifted on your feet.

“Because I was not there to save you this time?” You could _hear_ the smirk in his voice which irritated you.

“Because I have never been caught, and then you start showing up everywhere I go and I am caught, _and_ to make things worse, I have to be punished next to you!” You laughed humorlessly, narrowly dodging a handful of what smells like horse manure. You shoot a glare over to the man who threw it.

“ _Carino_ ,” Pero clicked his tongue and you felt his hand sweep against yours, “these rotten potatoes are preferable to your whining.”

You gasped and tried to flick at his hand but it only hurt your bruising wrists.

“When I get out of here I am going to find the biggest vegetable, _fresh from the ground_ , and throw it at you.”

Pero laughed a large, belly rumbling laugh that surprised you. 

“Why are you laughing?” You asked, baffled at his sudden turn of emotions, but it didn’t deter him from laughing more. 

It was the second plop of manure hitting the top of your head that had you joining in with Pero. The ridiculousness of the situation, the bickering between you, and your damn hand kept knocking into his. It was all so silly. You spent the rest of the morning in fits of giggles with the man you thought you hated up until a moment before.

-

You were thrown down the steps of the dungeons, your knees hitting the hard, dirty floor before you were hauled back to your feet to be taken to the cell that would be yours for the night.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” was the voice that greeted you. You saw him sitting in the corner of the cell, a growing bruise on his jaw and stripped of his leather outer garments. He looked softer in just a shirt and breeches, more vulnerable but also kinder. Like any ordinary man, not the pain in the ass you knew him to be. You chuckled at the sight of him.

“Your life would be boring without me,” you teased, but Pero nodded his agreement. You plopped down next to him with a sigh, stretching out your legs and feeling the soreness of your knees as you rested them. You rubbed at the tenderness over your skirts. 

“Are you hurt?”

“Some scrapes, that is all,” you assured him, but his eyes lingered where you were soothing your burning knees, “how did you end up in here?”

“Not my fault,” you raised a sceptical eyebrow, “a drunkard started a fight with me.”

“And where is this drunkard?” You asked suspiciously, looking through the bars into the other cells, all of which were empty.

“He passed out. The guards did not want to drag his useless body in here.”

You hummed, clearly not believing in his tale. He rolled his eyes at you, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.

“And you?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you end up in here?”

You sighed, remembering what had happened.

“A noblewoman thought I was going to steal her purse.”

“You were not going to steal her purse?”

“No!” You feigned looking scandalised at the mere suggestion, before dropping the act, “I was going to steal her dog.”

Pero guffawed, not expecting you to say such a thing.

“Her dog?”

“It would have been worth more than the coins in her purse.”

Pero rubbed at his tired eyes. You listened to the sounds around you; the guards gossiping outside the dungeon door, a rat squeaking somewhere nearby, the rhythm of Pero’s breathing. It was the first bit of peace you’d had in a long time.

“If we get caught again they will not simply throw us in the dungeons,” Pero whispered ominously. 

You couldn’t disagree with him, but there weren’t many other options for people like the two of you. You were wanderers and loners. You had no money, no home, no family. What choice did you have?

You glanced at Pero who was already looking at you. He looked defeated, with dark bags under his eyes and his lips turned ever so slightly downwards, he looked how you felt. Hopeless and alone. 

“We keep running into each other. That must mean something,” you claimed, feeling stupid as soon as the words came out. You quickly looked away and waited for him to mock you.

“You think this is God’s will?”

You shrugged and began picking at the dirt on your skirts.

“Perhaps we should do something about it then.”

“Like what?” You asked, allowing your tone to lift in hope. 

“If we are meant to be, maybe we should get out of this town and find another.”

“Together?”

“Why not?”

You looked up at Pero then. There was no teasing in his eyes or smirk on his lips, he was being deadly serious. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of sticking with Pero from now on. However, you couldn’t make it _too_ easy for him. 

“Well for one, I’d be stuck with your ugly mug.”

Pero grinned and let out a deep, throaty chuckle. 

“I would wager my ugly face is better than the hangman's noose.” 

The room became sombre once more as you realised what your options were. You had to leave town, but you could either do that alone or with the man whose company you were beginning to enjoy. 

You felt Pero nudge your side and you saw he was holding a single daisy up to you. 

“Do you carry flowers at all times?”

“No, _idiota_ , they are growing in the walls,” with an amused shake of his head he carefully placed the small flower behind your ear and leaned back to admire his work.

After your initial shock you smiled your thanks and he smiled back. 

“ _Bonita_ ,” Pero muttered and leaned his shoulder against yours as he settled back against the cold, damp wall.

You think you could get used to sticking by his side.


End file.
